Gerard Art
by Gasoline Diamond
Summary: Frank Iero is abused by adopted parents, so he runs away, only to fall into worse arms.
1. Runaway

Walking the streets of Belleville, New Jersey, a cold wind brushed past me, making me pull my 'Misfits' hoodie tighter around me. The wind gushed in my ears, sending chills throughout my body. Pulling on the hood over my face, I wrapped the fabric around my skull. My worn black converse covered feet shuffled against the concrete of the sidewalk. I felt something soft brush my leg. I looked down out of curiosity, but immediately regretted it. It was a dog (I think) it also had flies buzzing around what I made out to be the head, with glazed empty eyes. I squealed, walk/jogging away. When I couldn't smell of rotting flesh and bugs anymore I slowed down back to a normal walk. I then began to actually take in my surroundings. I was on a sidewalk on the side of the road. I recognized this part of town. I had been here once, only once, but never wanted to come back. I was a child, my parents took me into this part after we had just moved in to our house an hour away. _Ahh. I ran for an hour._ I thought. But then worry kicked in. This was a bad part, I mean, yeah, New Jersey _is_ a bad part, but this is a _really _bad part. Everywhere in Jersey there was robbers and muggers, but here is where _they_ live. Murderers, drug dealers, prostitutes, rapists, drugees, gang members, drunks, Gerard Art. My parents took me here to check it out. We were held at gunpoint in an alleyway, where my parents were shot. I was given away to two strangers who ended up beating me shitless because I'm gay and atheist. Yep, that's me, the broken gay atheist. Feel like running away and never turning back? I shudder wishing I hadn't worn the jeans with the holes. I was so cold it hurt! I could feel my teeth quivering until I heard them clunk against each other. _Maybe if I am really careful I can go back. No! Wait! What the hell are you thinking Iero! _I scream at myself. I couldn't go back! No way in hell!

_**Flashback!:**_

"_No!" I whimpered when my adopted mother brought her hand up. "Please!" The back of her perfect manicured hand clashed with my left cheek, leaving it stinging. Her nails clawed into my soft flesh like daggers. My adopted dad walked in with his belt in hand. "I heard you had a crush on Billy from school." He stepped closer. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to!" I cowered into the corner as far as I could, hiding my face. "Get out here!" The bitch spit, pulling me out of my corner. "You know how this plays Frankie." The other said nonchalantly. This was a routine. He tore off my shirt, as she held me there. She held me by my arms keeping my back turned to him, as he dug the belt into my red and pale flesh. When they sensed I was too weak to fight back, they stuffed me into a small closet. I'm surprised I haven't gotten used to it considering it happens every day, but just like usually I have a claustrophobia-induced panic attack. I would pass out, only to find myself in the basement (may I mind you, where there is a shit ton of spiders.) Spiders scared me, I have this one untouched spot in the basement that I cower away in, until my adopted parents opened the door._

_**End Flashback!:**_

I would go into more detail, but god it hurt just to remember! I'm sorry, but you wouldn't want to know the rest! So now I was stuck with the thought of killers and gangs in my head, walking the streets of the worst place to be at any age, never mind being only sixteen! I had stumbled on something, and ended up on the ground. That's when I noticed the pelts of water. "Great!" I breathed. This is shit. I felt a hand grab my wrist and hoist me up. I kept my eyes on the ground. "Thanks." I mumbled walking away. A hand grabbed my arm forcefully (the same hand I'm guessing.) and yanked me toward him. I yelped as I fell backwards into the man. I stared up into his face, he was beautiful! "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." He replied. That voice. It's so familiar! Continuing to stare at his face mesmerized. I found the strength to get out of his arms and to start running down the road. I kept running until I felt that I was far enough away from the stranger. I then proceeded to think about how my life sucks. It felt like I had walked for hours when it had really been a half-an-hour. I could feel eyes on me, and I realized someone was watching me. I could feel that fear was in my eyes. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Then I felt someone wrap their arms around me. I squealed, trying to break away. I looked up to see who it was, it was the guy from earlier. He was watching me. I tried to think about why he was so familiar, then I realized who it was. My eyes grew wide. I wrenched myself from his arms. This was Gerard Art. He was called that because no one knew his last name, he was a ghost. He got the 'Art' from how all of his victims blood is literally painted on the walls in some morbid image. "Y-your G-G-Gerard!" I shrieked. I eventually got my feet into motion, running. My feet made pounding sounds on the pavement, but I wasn't going anywhere. I realized he was holding my waist. I turned my head a little to see a sick smile. The worst part of this is all of his victims are teenage boys. I let out a cry as he starts to drag me away. I feel a cold metal press to my temple. "Now if you were quite, it would be easier for both of us." He threateningly whispers in my ear. I immediately close my mouth. _Maybe this will go by smoothly and I won't feel it. _I closed my eyes.Then I see my blood splattered on a wall in some red-inked picture. I feel sick. I don't want to die. "Please don't hurt me!" I whimpered. I was struggling to stay still, but it was a bit easier the more I thought about the gun pressed to the side of my face. He dragged me into an alleyway. Oh god. "Now here is how it's going to play out. You're going to calm down, I'm going to kill you, make a master piece out of your beautifully red blood, and if you're lucky it'll be quick and almost painless." I think I'm going to be sick. "I-I don't want to die!" I whispered, trying not to set him off. "Why me?" He laughed at this. "Because no one will notice your gone. Even if they do they won't care." It hurt, stung like the slaps on my cheeks, but he was right. I had no friends, no family except those two sons-of-a-bitches, and no one gave two shits about me. I hung my head. I was scared, and not only that but the guy who was going to kill me and use my blood for sick art, managed to embarrass me.


	2. AUTHOR'S NOTESorry D:

_**ATTENTION READERS!:**_

_**I MIGHT NOT BE POSTING STORIES FOR A WHILE, AS I'M TRYING TO WRITE A BOOK TO PUBLISH. I WILL ADMIT IT MIGHT BE A LONG TIME, BUT I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THEM, BUT I MIGHT NOT POST, I WILL, HOWEVER, POST WHEN I AM STUCK ON MY BOOK AND WILL CONTINUE WITH ONE OF THOSE, BUT DO NOT EXPECT AN UPDATE FOR A LONG TIME! I WILL COME AND READ, BUT WILL NOT BE ABLE TO WRITE OTHERS! I'M TRULY SORRY, BUT I REALLY WANT THIS PROJECT TO SUCCEED, I WILL MISS YOU ALL, BUT IF MY BOOK COMES OUT YOU CAN READ IT? IT PROBABLY WON'T HAPPEN, BUT HEY…A GIRL'S GOTTA HAVE GOALS! X} GOODBYE MY LOVES!**_


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